


From Sciurus, With Amor

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-14
Updated: 2008-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://seanata.livejournal.com/"><b>seanata</b></a>; the fourth of my pay-it-forward gifts. I didn't want to skip ahead, but the OrliBean I'm working on for a combined PIF gift is going to take more time. Plus I wanted to get one more promised story off my to do list before getting started on my <a href="http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/"><b>sons_of_gondor</b></a> exchange fic. The title is absolutely ridiculous, but that's what happens when you're no longer a functioning human being.</p>
    </blockquote>





	From Sciurus, With Amor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [**seanata**](http://seanata.livejournal.com/); the fourth of my pay-it-forward gifts. I didn't want to skip ahead, but the OrliBean I'm working on for a combined PIF gift is going to take more time. Plus I wanted to get one more promised story off my to do list before getting started on my [**sons_of_gondor**](http://sons-of-gondor.livejournal.com/) exchange fic. The title is absolutely ridiculous, but that's what happens when you're no longer a functioning human being.

Sean put his newspaper down on the coffee table and started looking for Viggo. Several minutes had passed since he'd heard his friend come back in the house but he hadn't seen or heard him since. He started toward the kitchen but stopped when a muffled curse filtered down the stairs. Sean could just make out the sound of movement as he passed the closed guest room door and paused outside to listen. Viggo never closed doors, not even when he was in the bathroom (much to Sean's chagrin and amusement), so with this barrier firmly in place he seemed to be sending a message he didn't want to be disturbed. But when another muted cry came from inside followed by a louder sound of pain, Sean quickly opened the door and followed the muddy footprints to the adjoining bath.

The sight in front of him momentarily stopped him in his tracks. The floor was smeared with mud and water, two formerly white towels were twisted around Viggo's bare feet, and there were obvious blood stains on his jeans and more blood and mud in the sink. All topped off with a scruffier than usual Viggo, deep gashes on his forearms and one bloody slash across his forehead, now staring at Sean with a mixture of surprise and pain across his face.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sean asked, his voice louder than he expected against the tiles, as he closed the distance between them in two long strides. He gently took Viggo's chin in his hand, turning his face to put more light on the cut near his hairline.

"It's nothing," Viggo said, a kneejerk response, then seeing Sean's expression quickly turning from incredulity to agitation, he continued in a rush. "I mean the cut on my head is nothing."

Sean held his gaze for a second then turned his attention to the cuts on Viggo's arms. They weren't as deep as they first appeared, but they were nasty: ragged, dirty and in need of attention.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing at the toilet, not moving until Viggo obeyed. Then he soaked a washcloth with warm water and laid it across the worst of the scratches on Viggo's right arm.

"Hold that there while I go get the first aid kit."

"Thanks." Viggo laid his hand over the cloth and gave Sean a small, contrite smile.

Less than a minute later Sean was back with a box of supplies and a fresh set of wash cloths and towels. He knelt down in front of Viggo and started to work on the wounds.

"So. Start talking."

"I got into a fight with a squirrel."

"A squirrel."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And the squirrel won."

"Man can talk for 30 minutes about one word he says in a film and for this he stops at two."

"It was more like 7 or 8 I think."

"Viggo."

"I was taking pictures of that part of your garden toward the back, you know where the sun gets filtered through the ... ok ok I'll cut to the chase; stop looking at me like that. So I got down on the ground to get a closer look at something, was lining up a shot when a squirrel walked in the frame. I jerked back a little, startled it, it reared up and I got scratched."

Sean stopped cleaning out the wound and looked up at Viggo, keeping a loose grip on his wrist. "So a squirrel frightened you, you frightened the squirrel, and the squirrel attacked you?"

"More or less," Viggo replied, giving a quick nod. Slowly a smile began to pull at his lips. Sean tried to bite back a rising chuckle but soon they were both laughing loudly.

After a minute, Sean finally calmed enough to speak. "We need to get you to a hospital, Vig."

"It didn't bite me."

"I don't care. I'm not taking any chances on a wound like this from a rat."

"First, it was a squirrel. Second, I don't need a doctor."

"Either you walk into the hospital under your own power or I carry you in over my shoulder. Your choice."

"You really think you could manhandle me into going if I don't want to?"

After several moments of trying to stare the other down, Viggo finally sighed and gave in.

"Fine, we'll go. And I'll get to say I told you so when they tell you this wasn't an emergency."

"We'll see about that," Sean replied returning to carefully dab at the deepest wound. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." He said the last words to the floor, so quietly Viggo almost couldn't hear.

"What?"

"This one may need stitches, Vig."

That's not what you said."

"Or at least kept closed with stuff I don't have in the house. We need to get you out of here."

Viggo touched Sean's cheek, making him look up at him again. The stern Bean stare had been replaced with a much softer expression, worry clearly evident in his eyes. He wanted desperately to lean down and kiss this stubborn and adorable man but knew now was not the time. Neither had ever broached the subject of the deeper emotions that had been swirling between them for years now. Viggo knew Sean would continue avoiding the conversation just as long as he let him, but Viggo was growing tired of dancing around the issue. And now Sean was too distracted with concern to be able to have an honest talk so the sooner they got back from the hospital the better.

"Tell you what. I'll jump in the shower, you can give me a quick patch up after I'm clean, and then we'll go to the hospital and annoy the hell out of the nurses." He gently swiped his thumb across Sean's cheek. "Don't worry."

Sean just nodded and stood, picking up most of the soiled linen as he did so.

"Just yell if you need anything."

Viggo gave him a reassuring smile. "Will do."

 

The hospital had thankfully been very quiet and they were in and out within a couple of hours. Viggo had long ago lost interest in the steri-strips vs. stitches debate, finally conceding that Sean had been right to take him to the hospital. Now he sat in the living room, his bandaged forearm limp against his thigh, quietly waiting for Sean and collecting his thoughts. He turned slightly to watch Sean as he entered the room.

"Does it hurt?" Sean asked, putting a bottle of beer on the table next to Viggo then moving to sit in the chair across from him. "Do you need some aspirin or something?"

"No, I'm fine." Viggo took a quick swig of beer before continuing. "You're quite the mother hen when you want to be."

A slight blush tinged Sean's cheeks and he looked down at his own beer. "Sorry about that. I can be a worrier."

"When your girls are hurt."

"Yeah."

"Or when your sister was having troubles a couple of years ago. I remember you went into full-blown protector mode then. Or I imagine when one of your exes were sick or something."

Sean just nodded as Viggo spoke, taking a couple of long pulls on his beer.

"I've never seen you so concerned about _me_ before, though."

Sean's movements stilled, his beer cradled in one hand, the other nervously picking at the seam on the chair. "You're a good friend. Of course I worry."

"Yeah, maybe," Viggo pressed on. "But there was a minute there where if I didn't know better I would've said you wanted to kiss me."

At that Sean looked up, embarrassment, fear and indecision flashing across his face. He searched Viggo's eyes looking for the joke but found none.

"Well actually," he began, his voice breaking slightly over the words but his eyes never losing contact, "the funny thing is, if I were honest ..." He paused and cleared his throat, licked his lips, swallowed. "The truth is, I think I did."

Viggo felt a smooth peace settle around him; the relief that Sean might be ready to face this thing between them, these feelings that have only grown stronger the more time passed, lifting his spirits. He smiled, gentle with no hint of challenge or threat, and put his beer down. "No better time than the present. Seize the day and all that."

Sean huffed out a laugh, the tension he'd been feeling not gone but somehow less constricting.

"Is it really that easy?"

"Why not?"

"I think we should talk or something first."

"About what?"

"About how this could change _us_. About what we want. About what this will mean."

Viggo pushed up from the sofa and walked half the distance between him and Sean. "Come here."

Sean stood and started forward, remembered the bottle in his hand and stopped, looking down at the tinted glass, watching the condensation pool around his thumb. He raised his eyes again and for the first time saw the possibility of dreams long ago put to rest now flaring back to life in his best friend. Bending over, he put the bottle on the closest surface then continued forward, meeting Viggo in the middle of the room.

"We do need to talk," he murmured.

"Yes."

"But sometimes actions ..."

"Exactly."

They leaned in and what had seemed awkward and unsure suddenly became easy and right.

 

Later that night Sean woke up alone, the other side of the bed cold. Sitting up he noticed Viggo's backpack was gone, the only thing left of their time together the strong smell of sex that still hung in the air. The best scenario he could picture was Viggo asleep in the guest room, letting loose an unpleasant coil in his gut that for some reason he wanted distance between them. The rest of his mind imagined Viggo even further away, at a hotel or with another friend, some hastily scrawled note of regret left for Sean somewhere in the house.

 _So, this wasn't what you hoped it would be_ he thought, the words and the emptiness in the room seeming to mock him. He flopped down onto his back and held his eyes tightly closed, tried to will away the growing resentment and anger at once more taking a bad gamble with his heart, at yet again expecting more than the other person was willing to give. He punched the mattress once, twice, allowing himself one flash of temper before pushing it down.

On cue, Viggo's voice carried in from the office across the hall. "I'm in here, Sean. Come see this."

 _Viggo's still here._ The thought ran through him like a cool running stream, dowsing rising fires. He pushed himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of boxers and walked into the other room. Viggo sat at the desk downloading pictures from his camera onto Sean's computer.

"Hey. Thought I'd left?"

"Yeah I did."

Viggo held out his hand and Sean gladly moved to take it, something warm and real to hold onto while his brain worked to shift gears and make sense of this new connection between them. He moved behind the chair and draped himself over the back, shifting his grip to keep Viggo's hand firmly in his.

"I'm thinking of getting this one framed." Viggo toggled over to the picture manager and an angry looking squirrel set them both into peals of laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> To see "Viggo's" picture, [click here](http://community.livejournal.com/day_on_earth/90086.html?thread=7913190#t7913190) (borrowed from a post at the comm).


End file.
